My campsite in the Berkeley hills is pretty secluded. And people rarely come up there. Especially during the late-night/early-morning hours that I occupy it. But every now and then I’ll run into somebody. Like this one unfortunate interaction I had with this young Berkeley co-ed this one time.
I woke up one morning and I noticed somebody had left these dinner plates on the ground near where I sleep. And the plates had a layer of white powder on them. I just figured somebody had had a picnic lunch there the day before and hadn’t bothered to clean up their mess. So I tossed the plates in a garbage can down the road. And didn’t think anything more about it. Until:
A couple hours later when I was approached by this UC cop, and this young Berkeley co-ed who appeared somewhat distraught.
“Did you happen to notice two dinner plates that were lying on the ground here?” asked the cop.
‘Yeah,” I said. “I thought they were litter so I tossed them in the garbage can.”
It turned out the plates were part of a science project the co-ed was doing for her science class. She was trying to determine what kind of wild animals lived in the deep, dark woods, by seeing what kind of foot-prints were left in the wild powder, and then matching the foot-prints to the particular animals. And now I had done destroyed her darn science project. So that was fucked.
I went down and retrieved her plates from the garbage can. And then packed up all my camping stuff and left, because the cop told me I couldnt camp there anymore (camped somewhere else for a couple days and then moved right back).
But I always thought the co-ed should have written that all up in her project report. Because she had indeed discovered a wild animal that was living I the woods thanks to her plates. Me.
Walking through the Berkeley campus last night on the way up to my campsite, I spotted this cat darting across the lawn and into the bushes. This shadowy blur in the night. I figured it was a feral cat. So I hung around for a bit to see if I could give it some food. But no sight of the cat, so I turned and headed back up towards the hills.
But then I heard the cat meowing at me. Which was weird. Feral cats are pretty stealthy and rarely approach strangers. So for a second I thought maybe it was one of my long-lost feral cats. Scaredy Cat or Mini Owl. Who recognized me from the past.
But no sign of the cat. So I turned and headed back up the hill.
But then, after I had gone across the campus and was headed further up the road, I heard the cat meowing again. It was following me. So I stopped and opened up a can of cat food, dumped it on the sidewalk, and then headed back up the road. And when I turned back to talk a look to see if the cat had made it to the food, there was indeed a cat there, nibbling at the food. It was MINI SCAREDY!! She took a few quick bites of the food and then followed me the rest of the way to my campsite (so that was a waste of a can of food).
I was surprised Mini Scaredy had ventured all the way down to the Berkeley campus. That’s at least a mile from my campsite. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s the best hunter and the most adventurous and wide-ranging of my cats.
Mini Scaredy is one of those cats that LOVES to be petted. If she could get away with it she’d have me petting her all day long. Ha ha. And when she starts to reach ecstasy from the petting experience she rolls over on her back and rubs her back on my cardboard matting over and over with a big smile on her face as she stares up to the sky. And if I stop petting her she meows over and over which translates into English as “MORE!! MORE!! MORE!!” Ha ha.
Cats are so smart. . . Mini Scaredy does this thing where she waits for me just about every night. She hides in the bushes a hundred yards down the road from the trail to my campsite — sometimes for hours. And when I show up she jumps out of the bushes to greet me, and then walks alongside me as I head up the road. It’s pretty cute. My own personal greeting committee.
The problem is: I could tell she really didn’t understand the concept of roads and cars. She’s spent her whole life living in the woods after all. And I was afraid she was gonna get hit by a car. She came real close one time. She was standing in the middle of the street and a car came right at her and she froze up — the old “deer-in-the-headlights” thing. The car had to slam on the breaks to keep from hitting her.
So now I make a point, whenever I’m crossing the street I’ll suddenly run as fast as I can until I get to the other side. Mini Scaredy watches me doing this. And now she does the same thing. She sprints as fast as she can until she gets to the other side of the road.
Moo Cat had been missing for over a week. Which she’ll do sometimes. But I was still starting to worry. I’ve seen so many feral cats come and go over the years. And Moo Cat is over 10 years old — which is pretty ancient for a feral cat. And one day I know Moo Cat just won’t be there anymore.
So it was a relief when she showed up this morning. And as wild and crazy as ever. And definitely hungry. Ate a big 14 ounce can of cat food and 3 big pieces of cheddar cheese.
I don’t know if it’s because of all the rain we got this month, or because I accidentally beaned her with a stick the other day, or what. But Mini Scaredy was definitely in an ill-humored mood this morning….. Moo Cat tried to sneak into my campsite to get some breakfast — something Mini Scaredy usually let’s slide. But not this morning. Scaredy immediately went after Moo. To escape Scaredy’s wrath, Moo ran around to the back of my campsite and hid behind my backpack, cowering in fear. While Scaredy stood there about ten feet away, tensed up and ready to pounce on Moo as soon as she made her move.
Moo sat there cowering behind my pack for about 30 seconds, wide-eyed, and assessing her options. Which were severely limited at this point. She’s got her back to the wall, and somehow has to get around Scaredy if she wants to get to safety.
Suddenly Moo makes her move and sprints passed Scaredy. Scaredy turns and chases after her in full sprint. Moo manages to get about 20 yards down the trail when Scaredy catches up to her. Scaredy dives at Moo with her two front legs fully extended and spears Moo in the side with both fists. A very impressive and athletic move by Scaredy — reminded me of one of those nature films where a lion in full sprint lunges at an elk and takes it down. Moo is is knocked sideways by the blow. But she quickly scrambles and regains her balance and runs down the trail with her tail between her legs.
Scaredy saunters back to my campsite with a smug look on her face, like: “I ain’t in the mood to take any shit this morning.” Ha ha.
I fix a plate of food for Moo Cat and walk down the trail to deliver her breakfast in a neutral zone. Moo Cat doesn’t seem hurt by the exchange. Just a little humiliated. Her thick winter coat probably prevented Scaredy’s claws from penetrating to the flesh.
I guess every now and then Mini Scaredy just feels the need to re-establish the pecking order.
Mini Scaredy had been missing for nearly two days. I had accidentally hit her with this big stick, and she went running down the hill as fast as she could and didn’t look back. I was actually trying to hit this skunk who had just sprayed my campsite, but, as usual, I missed. And Mini Scaredy got caught in the cross-fire. Hit her right in the bridge of the nose (a direct hit).
I was worried sick about it. Tossed and turned in my sleeping bag all night long hoping that she’d come back. But she never did.
Finally, Mini Scaredy showed up a day later in the middle of the night. She approached me cautiously, and then stood there looking at me like: “You hit me with a big stick, asshole.” I tried to explain to her that it was an accident. But I suspect cats lack the deductive reasoning to grasp that concept.
I fixed her a big late-night dinner. And then went back to sleep. The next morning she was all purrs. She even brought me a dead mouse as a peace offering. All is forgiven. The End.